
Book 



* f 



ADDRESS 

ON THE ^ "^ ^^r 

DEATH "^"^^ 



President Lincoln. 



JOHN FOWLER, Jr., 



NEAV-ROCHELLE, AFEIL, aotli, 1S65. 



An Address 



DEA-TH 



President Lincoln, 



DELIVEEED AT THE REQUEST OF Till 



CITIZENS OF XEW-ROCHELLE, WESTCHESTER CO., N. Y. 



JOHN FOWLEE, Jr 



, ^ J.-. , 



THURSDAY EV'G, APRIL 20, 1865, 



En tljc ®lti HjJiscojial ©fjiitdj, ]l<[cto=3^octclIc. 



XEW-YORK: 

JOHN A. GRAY & GREEN, PRINTERS, COR. FRANKFORT AND JACOB STREETS. 



18 6 5. 



" AVITH MALICE TOWARD NONE,-WITH CHARITY FOR ALL,-WITH FIRMNESS 
IN THE RIGHT -AS GOD GIVES US TO SEE THE RIGHT -LET US STRIVE OX TO 
FINISH THE WORK WE ARE IN,-TO BIND L^ THE NATION'S WOUNDS,-TO CARE 
FOR HIM WHO SHALL HAVE BORNE THE BATTLE, AND FOR HIS WIDOW AND 
ORPHANS,-TO DO ALL WHICH MAY ACHIEVE AND CHERISH A JUST AND LAST- 
ING PEACE AMONG OURSELVES AND WITH ALL NATIONS." 

PRESIDENT LINCOLN'S INAUGURAL ADDRESS, 

» 

Makch 4, 1865. 



New-Rochelle, Westchester Co., 

April 21, 1865. 

Dear Sir : 

The undersigned., a Committee., appointed for the purpose 
hy their fellow-citizens who had the pleasure of listening to 
your eloquent., judicious., and patriotic Address last evening., 
have the honor to request that you will favor us with the 
manuscript for piddlication. 

Very respectfully., yours.. 



RICHARD LATHERS, 
JAMES C. LUCE, 
JOSEPH W. HARPER, Jr., 
P. C. BULKLEY, 
ROB'T A. CHESEBROUGH, 



Publication. 



JOHN FOWLER, Jr., Esc^,, 

New-Rochelle. 



NEW-ROCHELLE, April 22, 1865. 

Gentlemen : 

I have the honor to achw^ledge the receipt of your 

favor of tu:e?ity'first inst. In compliance with your request^ 

the manuscript, to zchich you so kindly allude, is herewith 

transmitted. 

Fery respectfully. 

Jour obedient servant. 

JOHN FOWLER, Jr. 

RICHARD LATHERS, 

JAMES C. LUCE, 

P. C. BULKLEY, 

JOSEPH W. HARPER, Jr , 

ROBERT A. CHESEBROUGH, Esql'ires, 

Committee on Publication. 



NOTE. 



At a meeting of the citizens of the town of New-Roclielle, held pursuant to 
public notice, in the Town Hall, Monday evening, April 17th, 1865, it was, on 
motion of Mr. Robert A. Chesebrocgh, unanimously resolved : 

" That, John Fowler, Jr., be respectfully requested to deliver an Address on 
the Death of President Lincoln, on Thursday evening, April 20th, before the 
Citizens of New-Rochelle, in the old Episcopal Church Building." 

The Address was delivered by Mr. Fowler, at the time and place indicated in 
the Resolution ; but as m^y persons were, by reason of a violent storm, pre- 
vented from attendmg, the Committee of Arrangements, in accordance with the 
general desire, requested a repetition of the Address, in the same place, Monday 
evening, April 24th. At this time, as on the evening of April 20th, Mr. Richard 
Lathers presided. The platform was occupied by the entire clergy of the village, 
namely, the Rev. Richard U. Morgan, D.D., Rector of Trinity Church ; the 
Rev. John Miley, D.D., Pastor of the Methodist Episcopal Church ; the Rev. 
Thomas McLoughlin, Pastor of St. Matthew's Church ; the Rev. Erskine N. 
White, Pastor of the Presbyterian Church, and the Rev. Otis Saxton, Pastor of 
the Baptist Church. 

The attendance was numerous, every seat in the spacious building being occu- 
pied. Mr. Lathers addressed the audience in fitting terms, alluding in a feeling 
manner to the terrible calamity that had befallen the Country, and urging the 
cultivation of kindly feelings at a time when every citizen should give the Ad- 
ministration a fair trial and generous support. 

Mr. Fowler's Address was preceded by a Prayer from the Rev. Erskine N. 
White, and followed by a Prayer from the Rev. Dr. Morgan. The Rev. Thomas 
McLoughlin addressed the assemblage briefly. He spoke of the high regard and 
admiration he entertained for the lamented President. His earnest expressions 
of regret and sympathy deeply impressed the audience. At the conclusion of the 
Reverend gentleman's pathetic remarks, a Vote of Thanks to Mr. Fowler was 
unanimously adopted, and a Committee, consisting of Richard Lathers, James 
C. Luce, Joseph W. Harper, Jr., P. C. Bulkley, and Robert A. Chesebrough, 
was appointed by the audience, to request of Mr. Fowler a copy of his Address 
for publication in pamphlet form, 

P. C. Bulkley, 
Chairman Conunittee of Arrangements. 
J. W. Harper, Jr., Secretary. 

New-Rochelle, April 25, 18G5. 



ADDRESS 



Fellow-Citizens : 

We meet to-niglit under circumstances as extra- 
ordinary as tliey are appalling ! In tlie very hour 
of victory, wlien all hearts were expected to be aglow 
with joy and pride, we meet to mingle our tears over 
the new-made grave of a murdered Chief Magistrate ! 

Throughout four weary years we had watched with 
painfnl solicitude the varying progress of a malignant 
rebellion, which, at times, seemed so fraught with dan- 
ger and disaster, as almost to shake the stoutest hearts. 
During a large portion of this time our energy, pa- 
tience, and treasure, were severely taxed. Our loyal- 
ty was, on more than one occasion, tested and found 
true. To all the elements of national strength we con- 
tributed without stint. In the full confidence that a 
grand love for the whole country would prove the 
paramount passion of the people, and, sooner or 
later, rise superior to the spirit of disunion, — we were 
willing to accept as a full reward for all our pains, 
the suppression of the Rebellion and the restoration 
of the Union. 



10 

We saw, without dismay, tlie National Debt mount- 
ing from tens of millions to hundreds of millions. 
No mind could be so sordid as to put a money value 
on the Union : the cause at stake was jniceless. 

Thousands upon thousands of our brethren went 
forth to repel the public enemy, and meet deatli in all 
the horrid forms which the demon of war conjures up. 
Many of tliem sleep where they fell. Others, emerg- 
ing from some loathsome prison, crept home and 
thought it happiness enough to look once more u^Don 
the dear scenes of childhood, and then to have their 
mutilated limbs and wasted forms laid decently to rest 
by the hands of affection. 

At last, through the dark cloud, light seemed break- 
ing. The heart of the pretended Confederacy was 
reached. Hood's defiant army aj)proached Nashville 
in the vain hope of an easy victory, but was gallantly 
met by Thomas and scattered to the winds. Sher- 
man, meanwhile, marched triumphantly through Geor- 
gia, and, taking Savannah on his way, proceeded lei- 
surely through the Carolinas, where our glorious ban- 
ners, long accustomed to the smoke of battle, soon 
mingled their gay colors with Orange Blossoms and 
Palmetto Leaves. 

Still, the end, although certain, seemed far off. The 
campaign was being conducted in the midst of the en- 
emy's country, and might, at any moment, be adverse- 
ly determined by some accident which neither skill 
nor courage could avert. Hope had been so often de- 
ferred, that while any great movement was in 2:)rogress, 



11 

we songlit ratlier to steel our hearts against the pano-s 
of disappointineut, than encourage the promises of 
success. 

Wilmington had fallen. Charleston was ours. 

Grant, long silent, but always vigilant, moved sud- 
denly on the enemy's works. After several days of 
such terrible conflict as the world had rarely seen, the 
foe beaten, discomfited, abandoned his strong lines in 
utter dismay, and we beheld the old flag floating in 
triumph over the Citadel of Treason. 

Then quickly followed the surrender of Lee and the 
army of Northern Virginia. 

It needed now no ofiicial bulletin to persuade us 
that the rebellion was crushed, and the war virtually 
closed. 

A general joy suffused all true American hearts. 
The timid were assured ; the wavering ceased to 
doubt ; they who had opposed the war were glad that 
it was over ; they who had favored a vigorous pros- 
ecution of the war as the only legitimate means of es- 
tablishing a permanent peace, were equally rejoiced. 

No longer beneath the chastening rod we lifted our 
heads to behold with gratitude the bow of promise, 
spanning what, to our imperfect vision, appeared an 
unclouded sky. 

A day was set aj^art, Thursday, April twentieth,"^ 

* Thursday, April twentieth, 1865, had been named by the Governor's 
Proclamation as a day of Thanksgiving and Praise for the recent victo- 
ries ; but was changed on account of the death of the President to a 
day of Humiliation and Prayer, 



12 

as a day of Thanksgiviug and Praise, of Rejoicings 
and Meriy Meetings, and to hail with universal joy 
the dawn of that auspicious season when the clash of 
arms should cease, — when instead of bugle l^last and 
trumj)et blare, and screaming fife and deafening drum, 
the robin's song and ploughman's whistle should be 
heard, — when through valleys trampled beneath the 
hoof of cavalry, and along hillsides furrowed by artil- 
lery, the lily should sj^ring up, and grass resume its 
verdure, and tasseled corn and waving grain should 
bloom, — when deserted firesides should smile once 
more, and hearts long, too long estranged, be one 
as-ain. 

o 

In the midst of all this exj)ectant joy — ^while we 
were arranging the gay order of the happy ceremonies 
— at the very moment when our hands were raised to 
strike the timbrel and the harp, the dreadful, heart- 
rending, paralyzing news came to us that the Presi- 
dent of the United States lay senseless — dying ^ he- 
neatli tli& Uow of an assassin ! A few moments later, 
the fatal message arrived that the Peesident was 
Dead ! 

Dead ! Murdered ! ! 

With full hearts and choking utterance, we turned 
one to another, and tremulously, doubtingly repeated 
the awful words : Dead ? Murdered ? 

Abraham Lincoln, from w^hose calm eye naught 
but benevolence beamed, — on whose benignant face 
charity and good-will always sat, — in whose generous 
breast the gall of bitterness never found an abiding 



13 

place, — Abraham Lixcolx the man of the people, the 
frieud of the 23eople, the freely chosen Ruler of the 
Nation — Dead ? Murdered ? 

Comj)letely overcome by a flood of conflicting emo- 
tions, and utterly unable to fatliom the depths of this 
mysterious Providence, we could only turn our eyes 
toward God and watch and wait ! 

To some impetuous temperaments there seemed no re- 
lief but in instant and bloody vengeance. Blood alone 
could appease the fierce wrath of souls so suddenly 
stiiTed up to rage and mutiny. The murderer had 
fled ! He had escaped ! He had not been caught 
and torn asunder while in the act of exulting over his 
stupendous crime ! The popular fury spreading like 
some dreadful contagion, infused its rancor into many 
hearts unaccustomed to hatred, until, for a moment, 
it was feared that the people were about to enforce 
the impassioned sentiments of Antony : 

" Woe to the band that shed this costly blood ! 
Over thy wounds uow do I prophesy — 
Which like dumb mouths do ope their ruby lips 
To beg the voice and utterance of my tongue, 
A curse shall light upon the limbs of men ; 
Domestic fury, and fierce civil strife, 
Shall cumber all the parts of Italy ; 
Blood and Destruction shall so be in use, 
And dreadful objects so familiar, 
That mothers shall but smile when they behold 
Their children quartered by the hands of War ; 
And Pity choked Avith custom of fell deeds, 
And Csesar's spirit ranging for Revenge 



14 

"With Ate by his side, come hot from Hell, 
Shall in these confines with a monarch's voice 
Cry ' Havoc,' and let slip the dogs of war ; 
That this foul deed shall smell above the earth 
With carrion men groaning for burial 1 " 

Terrible as tliey seem, siicli were the sentiments 
wliicli for a moment possessed tlie minds of many. 
But tlie paroxysm was too violent to last, and wlien 
reaction came, the wiser counsels of moderation pre- 
vailed. A little calm reflection demonstrated, that 
the spirit of wide-spread revenge was not the spirit 
in which the Great Calamity should be met ; that 
over the dead body of our kindly-tempered Peesident 
we should not allow om^ evil passions to become in- 
flamed ; that to let loose the furies of j)opular dis- 
cord would be an insult to the memory of the good 
man whose life, entirely free from bigotry, was one 
beautiful illustration of harmony and love ; that 
while never remitting our utter detestation of trea- 
son, in whatever guise it may appear, we should seek 
inspiration not from the bloody work of murderous 
hands, but rather from the sweet smile which lingered 
round the martyr's face when the agonies of death 
were gone. 

^^For it is written ^ ^Vengeance is mine. I ^oiU re- 
pay^ saith the LorcV " To Him whose judgments are 
unsearchable, and whose ways are past finding out, we 
commit the fiend that perpetrated this unforgotten, 
unforgiven crime. Although the 'WTetch evade the 
vigilance of human eyes, he shall suffer the miseries of 



15 

a tliousand deatlis as, pursued by tlie outraged law 
and liaiiiited by remorse, tlie proscribed felon seeks in 
some obscure corner of tlie eartli to liide liis guilty 
liead. An exile and an outcast, a fusjitive and a vao-a- 
bond, wliat dreadful punisliment can he suffer — wliat 
terrible penance can lie endure — tliat sliall cleanse his 
blood-stained soul of this foul murder ? "' 

Turning from the contemplation of this enormous 
crime, let us devoutly thank God that the assassin's 
main purpose was not accomplished ; that the Gov- 
ernment remains steady in its course, — that the Union 
never had a stronger hold on the affections of the peo- 
ple than at the present moment. And while daring to 
hope that our beloved Country is, as it was in days 
gone by, an object of Divine Protection, let us not 
omit in this the hour of humiliation to acknowledge 
that no sentiments however pure, no qualities how- 
ever great, no station however exalted, can avert from 
poor humanity the shafts of Death. 

" The Glories of our Blood, and State 

Are .Shadows — not Substantial Things ; 
There is no Armor against Fate — 
Death lays his icy hand on Kings ! 
Sceptre and Crown 
Must tumble down, 
And, in the Dust, be equal made 
With the poor crooked Scythe and Spade. 



* At the time of the delivery of this Address, the murderer had not 
been arrested. 



16 

" Some men with Swords may reap the field 
And plant fresh Laurels where they kill ; 
But their strong nerves at last must yield ; 
They tame but one another still. 
Early or late 
They stoop to Fate, 
And must give up their murmuring breath, 
When they, pale captives, creep to Death. 

" The Garlands wither on your brow : 

Then boast no more your mighty deeds ! 
Upon Death's purple altar now 

See where the victor-victim bleeds ! 
Your heads must come 
To the cold Tomb ; 
"Only the actions of the Just 
Smell sweet and blossom in the Dust ! " 

This is not tlie appropriate season for an elaborate 
analysis of the character and virtues of Pkesident 
Lincoln. The moment is too solemn — our giief is too 
poignant for the stately phrase and pompous period of 
labored eulogy. A Nation's Tears are now the silent 
Heralds of his Fame. 

The period is not yet arrived when mankind 
can survey his eminent 23ublic services — as History, 
with her impartial i^en, will delight to trace their 
beauties. When time shall have smoothed the asper- 
ities of partisan warfare, and mellowed the judgments 
of men; when all the motives of his conduct shall 
have been revealed and followed to their results, the 
world will love him all the more that to the Victor's 
Wreath was added the Martyr's Crown. 



17 

Whatever differences of opinion there may have 
existed among his countrymen regarding the correct- 
ness of his political theories, or the wisdom of his ad- 
ministrative policy, no one ventured to question his 
singleness of heart or honesty of purpose. That he 
moved cautiously and weighed events deliberately ; 
tliat he was singularly free from the intolerance of big- 
otry, and was ever controlled by a conscientious regard 
for justice, has rarely been denied. His private char- 
acter was conceded to be not only beyond reproach, 
but above suspicion. This is the more remarkable 
from the fact that lie came into power on a whirlwind 
of popular excitement, the result of an agitation which 
for more than twenty-five years had threatened to rend 
the Union. 

Environed by difficulties at home, and threading his 
way through the dangerous entanglements of foreign 
diplomacy, he applied to all his intricate duties the 
rules of a homely common-sense. Unused to the logic 
of the schools, he called to his aid none of the arts of 
rhetoric ; l>ut ^vith unaff'ected reasoning, direct argu- 
ment, and plain Saxon words, passed straight to the 
point at issue. In his correspondence with 2)rivate 
citizens, and with committees and military officers — in 
his public addresses. Messages to Congress, and various 
State papers, he delivered his sentiments with a sim- 
plicity and vigor that won respect where they failed 
to convince. Men who could not admit liis doctrines 
acknowledo-ed his candor. 

He seemed to fully appreciate the great responsibil- 

2 



18 

ities of his position wliile yet standing on the threshold 
of his Presidential career. There was a solemn grandeur 
in the calm devotion with which he pledged life itself 
to the great duty of preserving tlie Union. Nowhere 
is this more striking than in the brief speech made by 
him when about to raise the National Flag over Inde- 
pendence Hall on Washington's birthday, 1861. His 
language on that memorable occasion not only disclos- 
ed a familiar acquaintance with the principles of our 
Government which honored his intelligence and patri- 
otism, but in certain particulars,, now startling to re- 
call, seems almost to have proceeded from a proj)hetic 
mind. To the complimentary remarks of Mr. Cuyler, 
he replied as follows : 

" I am filled with deep emotion at finding myself standing here, 
in this place where Avere collected the wisdom, the patriotism, 
the devotion to principle from which sprang the institntions 
under which we live. You have kindly suggested to me that in 
my hands is the task of restoring peace to the present distracted 
condition of the country. I can say in return, sir, that all tlie 
political sentiments I entertain have been drawn, so far as I have 
been able to draw them, from the sentiments which originated 
and were given to the world from this hall. I have never had a 
feeling politically that did not spring from the sentiments em- 
bodied in the Declaration of Independence. I have often pon- 
dered over the toils that were endured by the ofiicers and soldiers 
who achieved that independence. I have often inquired of my- 
self, what great principle or idea it was that kept this Confederacy 
so long together. It was not the mere matter of the separation 
of the colonies from the mother land ; but that sentiment in the 
Declaration of Independence which gave liberty not alone to the 
people of this country, but, I hope, to the world for all future 



I 



19 

time. It was that which gave promise that in clue time the 
weight would be lifted from the shoulders of all men. This is 
a sentiment embodied in the Declaration of Independence. Now, 
my friends, can this country be saved upon this basis ? If it can, 
I will consider myself one of the happiest men in the world if I 
can help to save it. If it cannot be saved upon this principle it 
will be truly awful. But if this country cannot be saved with- 
out giving up that principle, I was about to say I would eatheb 

BE ASSASSINATED ON THIS SPOT THAN SURRENDER IT. 

" Now, in view of the present aspect of affairs there need be no 
bloodshed or war. There is no necessity for it. I am not in 
favor of such a course, and I may say, in advance, that there will 
be no bloodshed unless it be forced ujjon the Government, and 
then it will be compelled to act in self-defence. 

" My friends, this is wholly an imexpected speech, and I did 
not expect to be called upon to say a word when I came here. I 
supposed it was merely to do something toward raising a flag. 

" I HAVE SAID NOTHING BUT WHAT I AM WILLING TO LIVE BT 
AND, IF IT BE THE PLEASURE OF AlMIGHTY GoD, TO DIE BT." 

His most malignant enemy will look in vain tlirougli 
his writings and speeches for any trace of rancor or 
malice. His sentiments ever breathe the spirit of kind- 
ness. Always hopeful, his far-seeing mind assured 
him that, sooner or later, the people of the South, con- 
vinced of their great blunder, would seek in the Union 
a refuge from all their ills, real and imaginary. He 
therefore carefully avoided the utterance of any thing 
which might aggravate dissensions or mar the harmony 
of his fraternal feelings. 

The questions with which he had to deal were ques- 
tions that involved the very existence of our Country. 
A highly respectable portion of our Northern fellow- 



20 

citizens was bound to the South by long-cherished 
political affinities, by warm social relations, by ties of 
blood, and by the not less stubborn bonds of trade. 
These links could not be suddenly ruptured "without 
adding greatly to the confusion and discord, already 
fearful in extent. Many intelligent and patriotic men 
at the North continued to think that the South could 
yet be won back by kindness, and that even the hottest 
bloods of Virginia and South-Carolina might be cooled 
by moderation on the part of Congress and the Execu- 
tive. The attack on Fort Sumter dispelled all hopes 
of a peaceful solution of the difficulty. War began in 
earnest. 

The artillery of the press opened at the same time. 
Every act of the administration was sliarply criticised. 
Every attempt to strengthen the hands of the execu- 
tive by the assumption of dormant or unusual powers, 
or by straining the Constitution, was met by exciting 
appeals, warning the people against a threatened de- 
privation of the public liberties. The limits of free 
speech were, in certain cases, defined ; the liberty of 
the press was, in some portions of the country, re- 
strained ; the writ of habeas corpus was suspended, and 
civilians, secretly arrested at the instance of the general 
Government, were refused bail and held by the mili- 
tary arm for trial by court-martial. The peo23le, unac- 
customed to such scenes, were invoked to resist these 
supposed attacks upon their ancient rights, which, 
wrung from oppression by successive revolutions, had 
been handed down to them by their English ancestors. 



21 

To all tliese difficulties was added the intemperate zeal 
of certain injudicious friends whose narrow minds con- 
ceived a plan for governing the country by the cramped 
machinery of party politics. 

Perplexed, embarrassed, annoyed, meeting at every 
step impediments and thorns. President Lincoln 
moved forward slowly, yet steadily, hoping that his 
countrymen, appreciating the novelty of his situation, 
would lend him their sympathies, and patiently await 
the result of a line of conduct which he felt was fully 
vindicated by the exigencies of the times and the 
purity of his intentions. 

When for a brief season the tide of war seemed roll- 
ing back against us, and timid fiiends fell off, and 
secret foes took heart, he never faltered in his high 
purpose. He adhered with Eoman firmness to the 
maxim, ^^ Never despair of the CommonivealtliP And 
when many looked with fear on a still divided North, 
excited by angry discussions and embittered by ex- 
travagant recriminations — ^when he began to be openly 
denounced as a tyrant and usurper, one thing alone re- 
mained to us as our bulwark against the assaults of 
anarchy : that was the popular belief in his integrity. 
The country was flooded -^vitli news2:)apers, magazines, 
and pamphlets, containing ably written articles de- 
signed to demonstrate that he had transcended the 
limits of the Constitution; but the people continued 
to look upon him as an Honest Man. They refused to 
mthdi-aw the confidence they had rej^osed in him. 



*? 



22 

They could not be made to believe that he was ca- 
pable of breaking his Oath. 

Between him and his predecessors no parallel can be 
drawn, for no other President ever held the reins of 
power through four years of virulent rebellion. It is 
therefore impossible to say how much better or how 
much worse others would have done. We saw, how- 
ever, that his grasp of statesmanshi]) was raj)idly be- 
coming appreciated, and that his early o23ponents were 
inclined to receive with favor the accumulating evi- 
dences of his intellectual capacity. 

Without any of those brilliant mental qualities 
which we have occasionally seen flit across the politi- 
cal sky, dazzling but not illuminating, his intellectual 
light shone clear, calm, and steady. That he was a 
man of quick comprehension, vivid perceptions, excel- 
lent judgment, and extraordinary mental vigor was 
long since universally conceded. Had he lived to 
embark on his career as a statesman freed from the 
burthens of war, he would have won the still further 
concession that his mind was distinguished by many of 
the highest characteristics of greatness. 

It is impossible for us to look back upon the history 
of the past four years and fail to observe the wonder- 
ful extent to which he moulded public sentiment. If 
to shape the thoughts of a free people, uj^on questions 
of vital im23ortance, in a country of general intelli- 
gence, — if to lead that people successfully through a 
wilderness of dissensions — be a mark of greatness, 
then Abeaham Lincoln was a Great Man. 



No man of ordinary mind could have accomplislied 
this. 

No man of ordinary mental poAvers ^r moral quali- 
ties could have reached the lofty position occupied 
by him ; nor could a man of mean capacity or base 
motives, if thrown into the presidential chair by some 
wave of popular caprice, have maintained himself in 
the place. An Imbecile or a Demagogue would have 
gained no hold on the Country. The people have not 
been in the humor to tolerate incapacity or dishonesty. 

There are many who believe that Peesident Lincoln 
succeeded as but few men would have succeeded ; that 
his cjualities wei-e peculiarly adapted to the times ; that 
a man with more inflexibility of will, or less gentleness 
of heart, would have failed to reconcile any portion 
of the Union with the other, and that what at first 
seemed his weakness proved, in time, our strength. 

The eulogy is well deserved. His main purj)ose was 
to preserve the Union. To this great object he bent 
all the energies of his soul. 

We all know that he did not originally seek the 
office of President. We also know that once in the 
office, it immediately became his ambition to be what 
the people designed him for — the President of the 
United States of America. Nor was this a mere per- 
sonal ambition. Every State had a place in his aflec- 
tions. He longed to see each State return home. His 
heart throbbed alone for the Union. In seeking to 
.gratify this prevailing desire, he may at times have 
appeared unnecessarily rigid, and at other times unne- 



24 

cessarily lax ; but we sliould not forget that the details 
of history are rarely understood aright during the life- 
time of the princij^al actors. There doubtless are many 
circumstances in his presidential career which will not 
be properly understood until some future historian, 
groping his way through the public archives, shall dis- 
close private letters and secret dispatches now wisely 
concealed. The public mind, then no longer warped 
by passion, nor clouded by prejudice, nor biased by 
faction, will calmly review his whole conduct, and ac- 
cord the full praise due to his high character as a 
Statesman, Sage, and Patriot. 

It is sad to reflect that the murderer's hand reached 
him just as he was turning from the rough fields 
of discord to tread the primrose paths of peace. To 
him the proud satisfaction was not reserved to wit- 
ness the full fruition of his weary labors. He was 
permitted to behold the dawn of victory, but not 
the meridian blaze of triumph. Yet he would have 
enjoyed that triumph not so much for its glory as for 
the grand practical results, and the blessings of frater- 
nal love and national unity which he fondly hoped 
would follow in its train. He would have indulged in 
no vain exultations over a fallen foe, but would have 
kindly striven to deprive conquest of its sting. To the 
congratulations of the Union Clubs of Washington, on 
the occasion of his reelection, he replied : 

" Now that the election is over, may not all, having a common 
interest, reiinite in a common effort to serve our common coun- 
try ? For my own part I have striven, and shall strive, to avoid 



25 

placing any obstacle in the way. So long as I have Iseen liere, I 
have not willingly planted a thorn in any man's bosom. Wliile I 
am duly sensible to the high compliment of a reelection, and duly 
grateful, as I trust, for having directed my countrymen to a right 
conclusion, as I think, for their good, it adds nothing to my satis- 
faction that any other man may be disappointed by the result." 

In reply to tlie address of tlie Maryland Union State 
Central Committee, on tlie seventeenth day of Novem- 
ber last, lie simply said : 

" I repeat what I have said before, that I indulge in no feeling 
of triumph over any one who has thought or acted differently 
from myself. I have no such feeling toward any living man." 

In the same noble, magnanimous spirit be penned 
the concluding lines of bis last Inaugural, delivered less 
tban two months ago : 

""With malice towaed none, — with charity for all, — 

WITH firmness in THE RIGHT — AS GOD GIVES US TO SEE THE 
EIGHT — LET US STRIVE ON TO FINISH THE WORK WE ARE IN, — 
TO BIND UP THE NATION's WOUNDS, — TO CARE FOR HIM WHO 
SHALL HAVE BORNE THE BATTLE, AND FOR HIS WIDOW AND OR- 
PHANS, — TO DO ALL AVHICH MAT ACHIEVE AND CHERISH A JUST 
AND LASTING PEACE AMONG OURSELVES AND WITH ALL NA- 
TIONS." 

"We little thought, when first those simple words 
appeared, how soon they would become his EPrrAPir ! 

It was in the same benevolent spirio that he received 
the overtures of Louisiana as, with a contrite heart, she 
approached her old home, suing for readmission to the 
Family of States. Even South-Carolina might have 
trusted to his generosity, had she, pointing to her 



26 

desolated fields and ruined homes, but acknowledged 
with sorrow lier great offence. And we can imagine 
with what tender compassion he would have welcomed 
back to the Union Virginia — that venerable mother of 
American commonwealths — as, moving in the grand 
procession of returning States, slie neared the family 
circle, still pressing to her bosom the form of Wash- 
ington. 

Alas for him, cut off in his prime ! Alas for us, so 
suddenly bereaved ! Alas for his sorrowing country, 
he is gone ! 

He is ours no longer, except in his good deeds and 
the force of his virtuous example. " 

We may not penetrate the veil which hides the 
future from our sight. We may long look in yain for 
the special designs of Providence in permitting him at 
this time to be thus torn away. Yet even now we 
see that our Great Affliction is not without its blessed 
lesson. 

We see a truce to faction. We see a unanimity of 
sentiment that astonishes and delights all good men. 

Millions, lately in some degree opposed, are now 
united in feeling, and vie with each other, not only in 
honoring his memory, but in a patriotic determination 
to lay aside all minor objects and employ the energies 
of the whole people in unremitting efforts to restore 
harmonious relations to all parts of the Republic. The 
spectacle thus presented is full of hope for the nation. 
It will strike the statesmen of the old world with 
amazement, and dissipate many doubts concerning the 



27 

stability of our institutions, wlien tliey learn that tlie 
-sliock utterly failed to weaken our j^olitical system. 
To them the novel and instructive scene will be pre- 
sented of a great Nation losing its Chief Magistrate by 
violence, yet continuing undisturbed on its majestic 
course. 

Nor is this the only lesson which the Gi'eat Calamity 
presents. 

With filial love the people gently place upon his 
earthly part their choicest flowers, and tenderly bear it 
onward to tjie tomb, through one long triumphal arch, 
heavy with the mournful emblems of a Nation's grief 
Keverently drawing near, they gaze upon his lifeless 
form and silently renew their vows of allegiance to 
■ their country. They ,look upon his gentle face, and all 
angry passions are subdued. Vindictiveness and Ha- 
tred and Malice melt away when they think of his 
great heart, in which all men still found some drop ot 
sympathy, and from which sprang the loving senti- 
ment — ^^ Malice toward none — charity for alV 

Like him, let us discourage the low contentions and 
petty intrigues of partisan warfare. Let us study the 
principles upon which our Republic is based, in a spirit 
of candor, and discuss them ^vith feelings of kind- 
ness. Let us remember the great truths which History 
teaches us, that fire and sword may subdue rebellions 
by destroying the elements of their strength, but will 
not cure political heresies ; that in politics as in reli- 
gion, heretics may be persuaded ])y reason, but cannot 
be convinced by persecution ; that violence transforms 



28 

ignorance into fanaticism, and stubbornness into des- 
peration, and tliat tlie Intelligence and Vii'tue of the 
people are tlie pillars on wliicli our Political Fabric 
must ever rely for suj)port. 

Governed by tliese truths, and guided by tlie Gold- 
en Kule, it was President Lincoln's earnest endeavor 
to discharge the duties of his great office by learning 
how to perform them, by calling to his aid the expe- 
rience of the wise and the good, by bringing to his 
task the noblest qualities of a mind and the cardinal 
virtues of a heart that expanded with the grooving 
emergencies of the times, and by tempering all his 
thoughts and actions with Justice, Mercy, Charity, and 
Good Will. 

In adversity he was firm, in pros]3erity modest, in 
\dctory magnanimous. His faith was ardent, his zeal 
enlightened, his integrity undeviating, his morality 
pure, his courage heroic. Patriotism led all his 
affections. 

We can present no more beautiful tribute to his 
memory, we can place no more fragrant garland on his 
tomb, than the solemn promise to emulate his bright 
example. 



LB S '!2 



